Lois Is Dead
by phedtay
Summary: An AU Smallville's Clark Kent meets H.G. Wells. Kent is not who Wells expected to meet. Warning... there is a character death.


Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, the WB, DC Comics or any the Heinlein characters or ideas that show up in this fic.

The tall, powerfully built man was the very essence of stillness. He leaned back against the old oak tree trunk with arms crossed, and nothing about him stirred. He blended into the expanding dark shadows as the sun westered beneath a summer evening sky.

He was clad in black and grey digicam BDU's; dusty, black combat boots and a weathered black duster that swept about his ankles. A stylized, white S, a version of his family crest, covered the center of his shirt. Chillingly remote blue eyes gazed without really seeing over an empty cemetery. His ruggedly handsome face was leached of life and emotion.

He had spent many an evening here in this Smallville cemetery over the past few years when he wasn't on patrol; or a killing mission in Iraq, Iran or Afghanistan. He knew that She would not approve of his constant vigil, but She was buried here.

He remembered...

It had started as an ordinary middle of the school week morning, huddled in the school hallway with Pete Ross and a few of his jock friends. Clark Kent had laughed at his best friend as he tried to make eye contact with every pretty girl who walked by.

His sensitive hearing had caught an intriguing gentle thump that managed to cut through all the other sounds in the echoing hall. Clark frowned as he tried to focus on the sound and his unexpectedly visceral reaction to it. He realized it was a heart beat and glanced about to find the source.

Chloe Sullivan was approaching the group with her usual caffeinated happy smile and energetic bounce to her walk. A tall, slender girl walked at her side with a long legged, athletic grace, beautiful hazel eyes and a cheerfully, confident smile.

Clark looked into the hazel eyes and everything else faded from his consciousness. The unique heart beat accelerated and Clark knew it belonged to the tall stranger with Chloe.

" Hey Clark! Hey Pete! " Chloe called cheerfully. " I wanna introduce you to my cousin, Lois Lane. Today is her first day at Smallville High so if you guys will help make her feel welcome... "

" Enchante, " Pete murmured and he stepped forward to take Lois hand in his.

Lois glanced at him and the big hazel eyes shone with derisive humor. " Is that Kansasian for hello? "

" … I'd really appreciate it. " Chloe smirked at her cousin. " You'll have to forgive Pete. He thinks he's a player... "

" Chloe! " Pete protested with mock hurt. He dropped Lois' hand and stepped hastily back into the gang of jock dudes who proceeded to poke and snicker at him.

" The other guy I've mentioned to you rather often... my best friend, Clark Kent... "

The smile turned shy as Lois looked up into dazed blue eyes. Her voice was soft and breathy, " Hi Clark. "

Clark struggled with two powerful needs at that particular moment. He felt an overwhelming desire to kiss the rather lush mouth that seemed to drift towards his own. He also felt an overwhelming need for deep breaths as though there was not enough oxygen getting into his system.

Pete elbowed his mute friend with a tolerant smirk. Clark was notorious for being painfully shy around girls but this was ridiculous. " Earth to Clark? "

" Pete? " Clark glanced with a puzzled frown at his friend and it was as though some hormonal spell had been broken. A deep, prickly flush rode up through his neck and cheeks, and his ears glowed.

Chloe glanced back and forth between her best male friend and her beloved cousin with the awed sense that something extraordinarily profound was happening before her. " Clark, this is my cousin Lois... "

" Ah... oh! Hey Lois... " Clark found himself getting lost in those hazel eyes again. He inhaled a heady mixture of vanilla scented shampoo and the unique and sensual musk of a healthy young lady who seemed to be reacting as much to his presence as he to her.

Clark was deeply grateful that his plaid flannel shirttails were long and that he rarely tucked them in. Almost defensively, he shifted the handful of school books and papers which he now cradled at his front. If his eyes began to burn... he was doomed as was anything flammable near by.

Lois had drifted subtly closer until they were separated only by the stack of school books. " Clark? "

" Uh huh... " Crap! The speech centers of his brain seemed incapable of functioning at any particular length.

" Lois? Clark? " Chloe glanced at Pete who stared back with a cheeky smile and shrug. " What the hell is going on with you two? "

The strident racket of the school bell broke the near mesmerizing tableaux. The huddled masses of the student body separated as they headed towards their first class of the day.

" Well I ah... I gotta go now, " Clark stammered. He struggled to drag his eyes away from smoky hazel eyes that were fixed on his own. " I have some chores... ah... some school work... "

He spun awkwardly and stalked away, his Justin George Strait boots clumping down the hall. Pete skipped along, snickering as he took in the glazed look in Clark's eyes. Here was ripe fodder for plenty of Clark teasing during the remainder of the school day... week... month... hell the year...

" Ew! Lois! " Chloe yelped. " Did I just catch you checking out Clark's butt? "

Clark came to a sudden halt as the back of his neck and his ears glowed red again. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Lois' face was tinted a delicate pink as she shot her cousin a nasty look.

" Oh and like you haven't cuz? " she drawled.

" Ah... well... " Chloe sputtered. There was a hint of panic in her eyes as she realized they had been over heard. Oh crap...

" Hey Smallville! " Lois jogged up to the towering farm boy.

He turned to face her with an unappreciative glower. " Did you just call me Smallville? "

" Yeah I did... " Lois nodded her head and sent a pony tail of dark, brown hair swaying about her shoulders. " Deal with it... "

Brazenly, she reached around him and dipped her hand into his back pocket. Clark's eyes popped wide open as her slender body lightly brushed against his.

" Lois? "

She fished a round tin of Copenhagen Smokeless Tobacco out, and proceeded to wave it about in front of his face. " You won't be allowed to kiss me if you are dipping, Kent! "

" Yes Ma'am, " he mumbled with a shrug of broad shoulders. Well if certain sacrifices needed to be made he thought philosophically...

Ignoring the stunned and astonished expressions of the remaining student body who had paused to watch, Lois sauntered over and tossed the tin into a waste bin. She threw a challenging look over her shoulder at the slack mouthed Clark Kent.

" Oh, and listen up farm boy! When we go out, loose the plaid! "

Clark nodded with a sudden broad and cheeky grin that lighted his face. Lois looked around and saw the smile, and was dazzled. He heard the hitch in her heart beat and the catch in her breath and the smile grew broader still.

" Come on Lo'! " Chloe desperately tried to steer her cousin away from the devastating Clark Kent smile. " We've got to get to class... "

He was jolted back into the present as he heard footsteps pad through the fresh mowed grass. They approached the slight hill at the edge of the cemetery where he stood beneath the ancient oak.

A short, rotund gentleman wearing an expensive, dark Edwardian suit doffed his bowler hat as he neared the two tomb stones that lay at a slight distance from the others. The stranger nervously stroked his greying walrus mustache as he stood reverently for several long moments staring down at the graves.

" Who are you? "

The stranger started violently and wheeled about. He had completely missed the man standing in the shadows as he crossed the Smallville cemetery. " What? "

" I asked who are you? " Kent stepped out from under the tree, his graceful motions radiated an explosively dangerous power kept under the restraint of a tremendous will. He had a .45 ACP SIG P220 Combat aimed at his prey.

" Oh! It's you Superman! " The stranger pulled a monogrammed hanky from a breast pocket and dabbed at the sweat shinning on his florid face. " You rather gave me a fright Sir! "

" My apologies, " Kent's voice was cold and indifferent. " I need to correct an error on your part... I'm not Superman. "

Pale grey blue eyes bulged behind round, rimless eye glasses. " What? Of course you are... "

" No Sir, I'm not. I am Clark Kent, also known as Kal-El, the last son of Krypton, and called the Blur by some... "

" You aren't Superman? " the stranger interrupted.

" No I'm not, " Kent replied. " I've heard of this Superman and trust me, I'm not him. And you are? "

" I am Herbert George... "

Bingo! Not bad guess work for a pair of self aware super intelligent computers like Athene Long and Mycroft Holmes. Actually it was rather scary how accurate they had been...

" Wells, " Kent all but snarled. " I thought you might be. "

" I see my fame was proceeded me, " HG Wells said a tad pompously. He pulled his eye glasses from his face and began an attempt to clean them with the now sweat damp hanky. " Now if you'd be so kind as to not point that dreadful weapon at me... "

" Or infamy, " Kent drawled. He dropped the SIG to his side.

" What? " Wells took a startled step back at the chilly hostility in the other man's voice. " What? Now see here... "

" I know who you are, " Kent said cryptically. " What say that we agree to disagree for the moment... "

" You think you know me? " Wells asked with a condescending sneer. " Who am I then? "

" You are Herbert George Wells, " Kent said. " Inventor of a time machine, one of the founding fathers of the science fiction genre, socialist shill and notorious busy body... "

He reached across his body and tapped on his watch as he had not yet holstered his weapon.

" Copy Kent, " a baritone masculine voice murmured. Richard Ames of the Long Family Time Corps was speaking through an almost invisible wireless earpiece Kent wore. " We've begun triangulating on any unusual energy sources in the area... "

Wells appeared bereft of speech as he gazed up into Clark Kent's face. Here was no genial superhero. He had never met with such overt hostility on the part of the Kryptonian in all of his years dealing with the various Superman universes.

" Checking on chronometric particles as well... " Ames murmured. Kent surreptitiously tapped his acknowledgment on the watch. " I know you disagree with the decision, however if Wells should have any kryptonite, Gwen is acting back-up... "

Kent concentrated for a moment and caught the steady thrum of a heartbeat and a familiar delicate perfume.

" How did it happen? " Wells waved a meaty hand at the head stone.

" She was killed by an IED outside Baghdad a few years ago. " Kent remembered...

Clark had been working with General Sam Lane as back-up for various Special Forces Teams on black ops missions in Iraq over several months. The intel they had received from the Intersect Project had been unusually good and they had made huge inroads in either crippling or destroying the local Jihadist terrorist apparatus.

His latest email from Lois had casually informed him that she was now in country, tasked by the Daily Planet with working in the Green Zone and covering the upcoming constitutional debates and vote.

He knew that their eventual conversation would be a tense one, and he also knew there was nothing he could do at the present.

He needed to focus...

The jolt to her heart beat had been sudden... It fluttered wildly for brief moments...

Even as he ripped the air apart in his sudden rocketing assent, Clark felt her fear and pain...

And regret...

As the country side shivered from a rapid succession of tremendous sonic booms... her heart beat stilled and he knew almost instinctively she was gone...

Clark thudded to the ground beside the broken and bleeding body of his wife... a moan was ripped from the very depths of his being... his heart and soul mate.

He threw back his head, a scream of anguish and sorrow corded his throat.

Clark became conscious that he was not alone. A small and stunned looking group of Iraqis stared at the fearsome, grim being who had dropped from the sky. There were a pair of dead bodies near Lois, and a couple other shattered beings writhed in pain as they held desperately to life...

Clark literally shook as he grappled with his grief, fear and rage, the near overwhelming sense of loss.... knowing just how dangerous he could be if he lost control... knowing what She would expect of him. The battle was brief. There still were soldiers lives to save...

A brooding figure leaned slump shouldered and emotionally shattered beside the gutted remnants of a military vehicle in an Iraqi dusk. The smoking remains of what looked to be a small pile of skulls and spinal columns fused together and to the ground glowed at his feet.

It had been two weeks since her death. Two weeks of almost crippling sorrow. Two weeks of fearful murmured and whispered stories of a red eyed demon who flew from the heavens to rend and slay...

" Kent? "

The brooding figure snapped erect, turned smartly about with a crisp salute. " General Lane? "

" It's time to go home Son... "

… Kent forced his mind back into the present as he realized Wells was speaking to him.

" Would you mind if I asked why you are not Superman? "

Kent frowned. " Why should I be? "

Again Wells gaped at the Kryptonian, bereft of speech.

Kent grinned mirthlessly. " Isn't it obvious? Isn't it an article of faith with you and yours that without Lois Lane there usually isn't a Superman? As my Lois is dead... "

" What do you mean? " Wells seemed to wage an internal battle with an unsavory reality check. " You and yours? What does this mean? "

" I've heard how you've managed to manipulate many of them into following some misguided notion of yours to create some future utopia... " Kent said with exaggerated patience. " What it means is that I'm aware of the multiverse and the different versions of Kal-El / Clark in them. "

Wells leveled a stern expression at the Kryptonian. " What pray tell is so misguided about a society of peace and prosperity built on a foundation of equality and justice... "

" It's a pile of manure, " Kent said with cool scorn. " There can be no such thing... "

" There most certainly is, " Wells returned hotly. Having his word questioned was a new experience; one he did not care for. " I have seen it... "

" What you've seen and showed to others is an illusion. It's a product of your own socialist philosophy and your ability to get other Clark Kents to concede to it with idiotic drivel about utopia and destiny, " Kent fired back.

" I have done no such thing... " he protested weakly. Wells hauled the now damp and dingy hanky out. The oppressive summer heat was beginning to have a deleterious effect on him when added to the unexpected stress.

" Sure you have. " Kent continued to speak with an coolly dispassionate voice. " Whether you actually understand or acknowledge it... "

" We are doing what's best, " Wells blustered. His posture was a pleading one.

" For whom? " Kent snapped.

" Why the billions of people... "

" Horse crap, " Kent growled with brutal frankness. " There is no such thing as destiny and there is no such thing as utopia. Those billions of people you speak of all have the free will to make choices and decisions for each and every moment of their lives. This means the future is a very fluid thing... "

Wells finally shrugged and decided to change tactics and arguments. " You may believe that, however it does not change the fact that the world needs a symbol of hope, the Hero you are destined to be... "

" I'm no hero Mr. Wells, " Kent interrupted. " I am one of the sharp end... one of those rough men needed so that people can sleep safely in their beds. I'm like the sheepdog protecting the sheep from the wolves. The true heroes are the men and women who serve as The Marines, the Army, the Navy and the Air Force along with the first responders...

" I'm an old fashioned kind of guy, Mr Wells. I was brought up by old fashioned people. I was taught to respect the traditional ideals and values of American exceptionalism, rugged individualism, personal accountability and most importantly to this discussion, freedom... "

" His time machine has been destroyed, " Ames finally spoke through the wireless earpiece.

" Enough! " Kent snapped at Wells, his blue eyes cold as death. " Do not move! "

The SIG was once again aimed square between the startled eyes of the aging science fiction writer. The hand and arm holding the P220 Combat were so steady as to seem immovable. Kent stalked over to the quivering gentleman as he rapidly scanned the multitude of capacious coat pockets in the Edwardian suit.

Almost gingerly, Kent set the SIG against the bridge of Well's nose. He reached into the correct inner jacket pocket, ignoring the sudden sour reek of fear, and plucked out what looked like a strange looking home made iPod.

" Mr. Kent! I must protest!" Wells squawked. He briefly considered trying to snatch his time gizmo back, but could not force his trembling limbs to move beneath the dispassionate yet dangerous gaze of the Kryptonian.

" I've got his time line calibrator doohickey, " Kent spoke quietly into his watch.

" Roger, " Ames replied.

A sleek, silver futurist car suddenly appeared on the slight rise of ground behind the ancient oak; stubby wings raked back for subsonic speeds. The nearest hatch popped up and Richard Ames clambered out with a slight grin and wave.

Kent closed his fist, reducing the time line calibrator doohickey into a fine, electronic gizmo powder. " Your time machine had been destroyed as well... "

" What have you done! " Wells wailed. A variety of extreme emotions flickered across his face as he panted and wrung his hands.

" I am stopping you from continuing as a threat to the safety and freedom of the multiverse, " Kent growled. He drew himself erect and crossed his arms in a legendary stance, but it was mixed with a dark and foreboding sense of menace.

" But why? "

" Because I'm a sheepdog, " Kent returned simply. " I refuse to allow you and yours to affect the future of my world. "

Wells wilted still further. His supreme sense of purpose was gone, stolen by the Kryptonian. His body seemed to cave in on itself, to shrink and shrivel. His face aged drastically and his blue grey eyes grew dull and listless. " I... I don't understand how you can doom billions... "

Kent cut Wells' ramble short. " Mr. Wells, this is Richard Ames and his wife, Gwen Novak of the Long Time Corps, along with Captain Zebediah Carter and the Gay Deceiver. They are here to remove you from this universe... "

Kent heard Mistress Gwen step out from her hide behind a near by mausoleum. She drifted in their general direction, keeping her line of fire clear, holding something in her outstretched hands that just barely resembled a weapon.

" These people are going to take you somewhere, some place, some time where you will no longer be a threat to the multiverse time lines. "

Richard Ames stood beside Wells who peered back bleary eyed; a spirit and heartbroken man. " Thanks Clark. We... the Time Corps really appreciate your invaluable help. Wells has affected or wiped clean so many universes and created far too many temporal loops... "

Kent nodded grimly. " Say hi to Lazarus and the girls for me will you? And tell Athene some other and more appropriate time... "

Mistress Gwen smiled softly at Kent. She stood on tip toes and placed a light kiss on his cheek. " From all of us... our thanks. You've done good here Clark... "

Kent nodded abruptly. " Hear me Wells... this is my world. If you try and return I'll kill you... "

Wells shrank away from the coldly lethal expression in the brilliant blue eyes of the Kryptonian.

Kent slowly eased from the ground and hovered for a moment, his attention still focused on his prey. " Lois is dead and I'm not Superman... "

A black blur streaked across the sky and a sonic boom rolled through the quiet mid western evening.

The end:


End file.
